It troubled me as once I was

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1. It was a quiet seeming Day It was a quiet seeming Day There was no harm in earth or sky Till with the closing sun There strayed an accidental Red A Strolling Hue, one would have said To westward of the Town But when the Earth began to jar And Houses vanished with a roar And Human Nature hid We comprehended […]...
2. All I may, if small All I may, if small, Do it not display Larger for the Totalness ‘Tis Economy To bestow a World And withhold a Star Utmost, is Munificence Less, tho’ larger, poor....
3. Let Us play Yesterday Let Us play Yesterday I the Girl at school You and Eternity the Untold Tale Easing my famine At my Lexicon Logarithm had I for Drink ‘Twas a dry Wine Somewhat different must be Dreams tint the Sleep Cunning Reds of Morning Make the Blind leap Still at the Egg-life Chafing the Shell When you […]...
4. Bound a trouble Bound a trouble And lives can bear it! Limit how deep a bleeding go! So many drops of vital scarlet Deal with the soul As with Algebra! Tell it the Ages to a cypher And it will ache contented on Sing at its pain as any Workman Notching the fall of the Even Sun!...
5. The best days of my life What is it about Bryan Adams and his song ‘Summer of 69’? Why do the lyrics linger? Was it 90° in the shade and the harbinger of the end Of the golden weather, or the impending closure Of a glorious decade? He should have called it ‘The best days of my life’, it would have […]...
6. Astrophel and Stella: III Let dainty wits cry on the sisters nine, That, bravely mask’d, their fancies may be told; Or, Pindar’s apes, flaunt they in phrases fine, Enam’ling with pied flowers their thoughts of gold. Or else let them in statelier glory shine, Ennobling newfound tropes with problems old; Or with strange similes enrich each line, Of herbs […]...
7. It might be lonelier It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness I’m so accustomed to my Fate Perhaps the Other Peace Would interrupt the Dark And crowd the little Room Too scant by Cubits to contain The Sacrament of Him I am not used to Hope It might intrude upon Its sweet parade blaspheme the place Ordained to Suffering […]...
8. Some we see no more, Tenements of Wonder Some we see no more, Tenements of Wonder Occupy to us though perhaps to them Simpler are the Days than the Supposition Leave us to presume That oblique Belief which we call Conjecture Grapples with a Theme stubborn as Sublime Able as the Dust to equip its feature Adequate as Drums To enlist the Tomb....
9. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
10. One Blessing had I than the rest One Blessing had I than the rest So larger to my Eyes That I stopped gauging satisfied For this enchanted size It was the limit of my Dream The focus of my Prayer A perfect paralyzing Bliss Contented as Despair I knew no more of Want or Cold Phantasms both become For this new Value […]...
11. The Widower For a season there must be pain For a little, little space I shall lose the sight of her face, Take back the old life again While She is at rest in her place. For a season this pain must endure, For a little, little while I shall sigh more often than smile Till time […]...
12. Instants If I could live again my life, In the next – I’ll try, – to make more mistakes, I won’t try to be so perfect, I’ll be more relaxed, I’ll be more full – than I am now, In fact, I’ll take fewer things seriously, I’ll be less hygenic, I’ll take more risks, I’ll take […]...
13. I think to Live may be a Bliss I think to Live may be a Bliss To those who dare to try Beyond my limit to conceive My lip to testify I think the Heart I former wore Could widen till to me The Other, like the little Bank Appear unto the Sea I think the Days could every one In Ordination stand […]...
14. I measure every Grief I meet I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, Eyes I wonder if It weighs like Mine Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long Or did it just begin I could not tell the Date of Mine It feels so old a pain I wonder if it hurts to live […]...
15. Over the Carnage OVER the carnage rose prophetic a voice, Be not dishearten’d-Affection shall solve the problems of Freedom yet; Those who love each other shall become invincible-they shall yet make Columbia victorious. Sons of the Mother of All! you shall yet be victorious! You shall yet laugh to scorn the attacks of all the remainder of the […]...
16. 'Tis good the looking back on Grief ‘Tis good the looking back on Grief To re-endure a Day We thought the Mighty Funeral Of All Conceived Joy To recollect how Busy Grass Did meddle one by one Till all the Grief with Summer waved And none could see the stone. And though the Woe you have Today Be larger As the Sea […]...
17. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
18. The Frost of Death was on the Pane The Frost of Death was on the Pane “Secure your Flower” said he. Like Sailors fighting with a Leak We fought Mortality. Our passive Flower we held to Sea To Mountain To the Sun Yet even on his Scarlet shelf To crawl the Frost begun We pried him back Ourselves we wedged Himself and her […]...
19. A Spiritual Woman Close your eyes, my love, let me make you blind; They have taught you to see Only a mean arithmetic on the face of things, A cunning algebra in the faces of men, And God like geometry Completing his circles, and working cleverly. I’ll kiss you over the eyes till I kiss you blind; If […]...
20. To the Muse Resign the rhapsody, the dream, To men of larger reach; Be ours the quest of a plain theme, The piety of speech. As monkish scribes from morning break Toiled till the close of light, Nor thought a day too long to make One line or letter bright: We also with an ardent mind, Time, wealth, […]...
21. The Caverns of the Grave I've Seen The Caverns of the Grave I’ve seen, And these I show’d to England’s Queen. But now the Caves of Hell I view, Who shall I dare to show them to? What mighty soul i 362 n Beauty’s form Shall dauntless view the infernal storm? Egremont’s Countess can control The flames of Hell that round me […]...
22. States! STATES! Were you looking to be held together by the lawyers? By an agreement on a paper? Or by arms? Away! I arrive, bringing these, beyond all the forces of courts and arms, These! to hold you together as firmly as the earth itself is held together. The old breath of life, ever new, Here! […]...
23. The Murmur of a Bee The Murmur of a Bee A Witchcraft yieldeth me If any ask me why ‘Twere easier to die Than tell The Red upon the Hill Taketh away my will If anybody sneer Take care for God is here That’s all. The Breaking of the Day Addeth to my Degree If any ask me how Artist […]...
24. I'd rather recollect a setting I’d rather recollect a setting Than own a rising sun Though one is beautiful forgetting And true the other one. Because in going is a Drama Staying cannot confer To die divinely once a Twilight Than wane is easier...
25. I showed her Heights she never saw I showed her Heights she never saw “Would’st Climb,” I said? She said “Not so” “With me ” I said With me? I showed her Secrets Morning’s Nest The Rope the Nights were put across And now “Would’st have me for a Guest?” She could not find her Yes And then, I brake my life […]...
26. Herbert Marshall All your sorrow, Louise, and hatred of me Sprang from your delusion that it was wantonness Of spirit and contempt of your soul’s rights Which made me turn to Annabelle and forsake you. You really grew to hate me for love of me, Because I was your soul’s happiness, Formed and tempered To solve your […]...
27. Taking up the fair Ideal Taking up the fair Ideal, Just to cast her down When a fracture we discover Or a splintered Crown Makes the Heavens portable And the Gods a lie Doubtless “Adam” scowled at Eden For his perjury! Cherishing our pool Ideal Till in purer dress We behold her glorified Comforts search like this Till the broken […]...
28. The Rose did caper on her cheek The Rose did caper on her cheek Her Bodice rose and fell Her pretty speech like drunken men Did stagger pitiful Her fingers fumbled at her work Her needle would not go What ailed so smart a little Maid It puzzled me to know Till opposite I spied a cheek That bore another Rose Just […]...
29. WITHOUT THE WHEREWITHALL To Thushari Williams Dear Thushie, the six months you spent with us Will never be forgotten, the long days you laboured In the care home, your care-worn comings home To sit with Brenda Williams, poиte maudit sang pur, Labouring together to bring to light poems buried alive And turn them into a book, the living […]...
30. Carnal Knowledge Having picked the final datum From the universe And fixed it in its column, Named the causes of infinity, Performed the calculus Of the imaginary i, it seems The body aches To come too, To the light, Transmit the grace of gravity, Express in its own algebra The symmetries of awe and fear, The shudder […]...
31. Style Flaubert wanted to write a novel About nothing. It was to have no subject And be sustained upon the style alone, Like the Holy Ghost cruising above The abyss, or like the little animals In Disney cartoons who stand upon a branch That breaks, but do not fall Till they look down. He never wrote […]...
32. The Brain, within its Groove The Brain, within its Groove Runs evenly and true But let a Splinter swerve ‘Twere easier for You To put a Current back When Floods have slit the Hills And scooped a Turnpike for Themselves And trodden out the Mills...
33. Amoretti LXXV: One Day I Wrote Her Name One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washed it away: Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide, and made my pains his prey. “Vain man,” said she, “that dost in vain assay, A mortal thing so to immortalize; For I myself shall like […]...
34. The Sky is an Immortal Tent Built by the Sons of Los (from The sky is an immortal tent built by the Sons of Los: And every space that a man views around his dwelling-place Standing on his own roof or in his garden on a mount Of twenty-five cubits in height, such space is his universe: And on its verge the sun rises and sets, the clouds […]...
35. I felt a Funeral, in my Brain I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading treading till it seemed That Sense was breaking through And when they all were seated, A Service, like a Drum Kept beating beating till I thought My Mind was going numb And then I heard them lift a Box And creak […]...
36. More Life went out when He went More Life went out when He went Than Ordinary Breath Lit with a finer Phosphor Requiring in the Quench A Power of Renowned Cold, The Climate of the Grave A Temperature just adequate So Anthracite, to live For some an Ampler Zero A Frost more needle keen Is necessary, to reduce The Ethiop within. Others […]...
37. Bring me the sunset in a cup Bring me the sunset in a cup, Reckon the morning’s flagons up And say how many Dew, Tell me how far the morning leaps Tell me what time the weaver sleeps Who spun the breadth of blue! Write me how many notes there be In the new Robin’s ecstasy Among astonished boughs How many trips […]...
38. Young Fellow My Lad “Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, Dad; They’re looking for men, they say.” “But you’re only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad; You aren’t obliged to go.” “I’m seventeen and a quarter, Dad, And ever so strong, you know.” * * […]...
39. Money When I had money, money, O! I knew no joy till I went poor; For many a false man as a friend Came knocking all day at my door. Then felt I like a child that holds A trumpet that he must not blow Because a man is dead; I dared Not speak to let […]...
40. A Letter To My Aunt A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry To you, my aunt, who would explore The literary Chankley Bore, The paths are hard, for you are not A literary Hottentot But just a kind and cultured dame Who knows not Eliot (to her shame). Fie on you, aunt, that you should […]...